


Sidekicks

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Crossovers: Other, M/M, Other: See Story Notes, b/d, other pairing - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 03:15:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/793397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sidekicks in charge: the boys get their kicks - sex with a side of leather.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sidekicks

## Sidekicks

JC

* * *

Dick Grayson shut down his computer, and slowly turned, swiveling his chair to face the room.  With a smoldering, sexy look in his eye, he smiled, taking in the sight of his lover, beautifully presented in the moonlit glow from the Gotham sky, on his knees, next to a big, black leather couch. A hot, blue gaze was staring back -- and as he stood, those eyes traveled down his body, hesitating only briefly on the hard cock that bobbed freely in front of him, before finally settling on the laced-up boots. 

He approached the kneeling figure, with steady, even steps, until he was close enough for the other man's tongue to lick leather, or skin, or the sticky dribble that was leaking from the head of his dick. 

They were both ready. 

* * *

On the opposite side of the country, in the city of Cascade, a similar scene was about to be played out. 

Blair Sandburg was on the couch, in the sexually charged atmosphere of his loft apartment, watching _his_ lover.  The nearly naked, muscled form sat in a chair across the room -- blindfolded, and trembling. 

It was time. 

* * *

Blair Sandburg and Dick Grayson only knew each other by virtue of cyber-communication.  Blair had been helping a friend at Rainier University sift through the responses to an online survey.  His friend was working on a Sociology research project, which included a survey of men involved in a long-term homosexual relationship with men who were considerably older.  The response had been overwhelming, and thus, Blair had volunteered to spend some time going over some of the preliminary data.  Drawn by something he sensed, but couldn't quite put his finger on, in the answers of Respondent #397 - R.G. at Gotham State U., Blair sent back an e-mail requesting some additional information. 

It turned out that they had a lot in common, and as the correspondence took a more personal turn, they became friends. 

The similarity of their situations had been a starting point.  Both involved in academia, although Blair was finishing his Ph.D., while Dick had just gone back to school for his Masters.  Both involved with law enforcement -- not that Dick had revealed the extent of _his_ involvement.  Both in love with older men.  Both with a secret.  That last was implied and hinted at, but not shared. Blair hadn't mentioned Sentinel senses, and Dick surely hadn't mentioned 'Caped Crusading', but they each knew that the other had a need for discretion that went beyond being gay and closeted. 

And there was at least one other parallel interest. 

* * *

"Taste it." 

A shudder went through Bruce Wayne's large frame.  He was kneeling, wearing only a leather harness.  It was a wonderful elaboration of straps and metal rings, crisscrossing the broad chest and muscular back, attached to a cock ring (which was doing its duty quite nicely on Bruce's sizable erection), and a thin strap that fit snugly between the firm cheeks of his ass.  For Bruce, it was like being tied up without being tied down.  His hands were bound behind him with a special version of handcuffs.  It turned out that the various components of the Bat-utility belt had a myriad of uses that extended far beyond simple crime fighting. 

Bruce's body shook again, but otherwise he didn't move.  His eyes didn't rise from where they were fixed on the dull gleam of his lover's leather-encased feet, although his mind was filled with the starkly erotic vision the younger man presented.  Hard, primed, totally naked -- except for the boots, and the tight-fitting, black leather gloves. 

"Bruce..."  The tone held a hint of warning. 

Eyes that seemed dark with arousal finally lifted, but only as far as the rigid flesh pointing in their direction -- held transfixed by the beauty and power of it. 

"I won't say it again." 

One broad swipe of a tongue, which lingered for a second as Bruce let the swollen, leaking head rest in his mouth.  He resisted the urge to suckle; he'd been waiting in that spot for a long time, and didn't want to risk being left there any longer. 

"Good... good." 

A gloved hand came up, and with a few quick strokes, released more drops to settle on Bruce's tongue.  The taste, combined with the intense rush of leather scent, almost pushed the older man over the edge.  His dick strained against its binding, smacking the defined ridges of his abs. 

" _Very_ nice." 

Dick removed his cock from his lover's mouth, letting it rub wetly across the squared jaw.  He stepped back, walking slowly around the kneeling man, until he was behind him, appreciating the rear view.  Forcing air into his lungs, he took deep breaths, holding his own arousal in check.  The sight of Bruce Wayne's body had been able to make him hard for almost as long as he could remember.  To have it like this was a wet dream come true. 

Quickly, he reached down and released the cuffs.  Moving Bruce's arms aside, he trailed his hands over the firm flesh of his lover's back and ass, tugging on the straps, watching the play of rippling muscles.  Desire flared up inside him, and he wanted more.  He placed two fingers on Bruce's lips, and the older man sucked them in, wetting them with an eagerness fueled by need.  Seconds later, those two slick fingers were inside a passage so tight and hot, Dick could have sworn his gloves were smoking.  He slowly withdrew, smiling at the moans of protest. 

"Shhhh... it's not over yet." 

* * *

Blair stood.  The moonlight shining into the apartment flashed briefly off of the ring through his left nipple, and the buckles on his boots.  The leather covering the lower half of his body was dark, and smooth, and form-fitting.  He felt hard and tight with lust.  Lust for the man across the room. 

Big, buff, tough Jim Ellison -- whose sight was now cut off by a leather blindfold.  There were cuffs, also leather, surrounding both wrists, and it looked as if he was bound to the chair on which he was sitting, but he wasn't.  The hands gripping the edge of the seat weren't locked in place by restraints, just Jim's self-control alone.  And, judging by the size of the bulge in the leather pouch of his thong, there was precious little of that left. 

There was enough supple, skin-warmed leather in the room for Jim's heightened sense of smell to have a field day, and Blair was tempted to blow cool puffs of air over every inch of taut, exposed skin, to tease his lover's tactile sense as well, but he let the temptation pass. He wanted Jim to concentrate on sound. 

He went past, walking around the room, watching the response to his movements in the slight twitches of Jim's body.  Finally, he stopped at the stairs.  Turning to sit on the third one, he spread his legs wide, rubbing his palms along the surface of his leather pants, and called out. 

"Jim...  Come here." 

He watched as his lover slowly made his way around to the stairs, unerringly focused on the origin of his voice.  When Jim was standing before him, he whispered. 

"Good.  Now, closer." 

And Jim was on his knees, gasping as strong hands kept him from falling forward, groaning as insistent fingers led his face to the juncture of his lover's legs.  He hesitated, mouth open, but those fingers pressed him closer still, and he wasted little time savoring the scent, moving to work his tongue over the bulging leather.  Making it shine in his eagerness, making Blair moan from his attention, whimpering when his face was pulled away. 

"Don't worry... we're not done yet." 

There was the snap and zip as pants were unfastened, and then, the sharp hissing sound of Jim's anticipation. 

* * *

Bruce was on the floor, on his back, arms stretched above his head, wrists cuffed together.  His lover was settled between the solid thickness of his thighs, and the solid thickness of his cock was jumping every so often, pleading in vain for the gift of touch.  Demanding hands spread his legs wider, and his toes curled tightly in response, gripping the floor beneath. 

One quick flick on the head of his dick had him arching, back bowed, hips forward, head moving to expose the corded flesh of his neck. 

"There, Bruce.  Hold it there." 

The soft kiss that turned into sharp bites, moving from nipple to nipple, blazing a trail across his chest, had him ready to take flight.  Tremors shook him, and whispered pleas escaped him despite his best efforts. 

"It's okay.  Just settle down now."  Soothing sweeps of a hot, wet tongue that moved lower and lower, dipping into the crease between his thigh and groin.  "Now hold on..."  And then, his balls were treated to the same hot wetness, followed by fiery nibbles.  Alternating tortures in a seemingly endless stream.  Bruce swallowed his scream and held on. 

* * *

Even over the powerful, seductive fragrance of leather, Jim could smell the tantalizing scent of his lover's exposed cock and balls.  The heady musk of sweat, and skin, with traces of seeping semen.  He was allowed to nuzzle the steamy patch of surrounding curls, and he filled his nostrils with the aroma. 

"Get ready." 

He nodded a little, moving his head in his lover's grasp, as the thick hard-on was placed between his lips. 

"All of it." 

Jim took it in, deep-throating the erection in a long-practiced move.  Easing it in and out, working his tongue, and throat, and lips with a heartfelt willingness.  His hands itched to touch, but he pressed his fingers into the hard surface of the stairs, and concentrated on the sounds of his lover's satisfaction. 

* * *

Bruce sucked in a breath at the feel of cool gel on the hot skin of his erection, his already tense muscles straining even more with the force of barely leashed arousal.  He bit his lip just short of bleeding when a warm hand joined in.  The tri-fold temperature sensation, blending to a sensual simmering, soon had him making a deep, rumbling sound that seemed to start somewhere in the vicinity of his balls. 

"So good, and about to get better." 

His legs were moved as Dick positioned him, and he felt the scrape of rubber as the heel of a boot brushed against his thigh. 

"Bruce...  Look at me." 

He didn't want to open his eyes.  Didn't want to see the scene before him.  Didn't want to know how much closer it would push him to the edge.  Didn't think he could take it.  Of course, he opened them anyway, and fought to maintain the eye contact. 

"Stay with me, here.  Ready?" 

Every nerve in Bruce's body was screaming 'NO!', but he still managed to give a little nod.  Right before his cock was swallowed up by Dick's ass.  The harsh sound ripped from him sounded like an animal in pain, but it was the sweetest joy Bruce had ever known.  To be trapped, balls-deep, inside his lover. 

Dick, too, was high on the pleasure, gliding on the currents of sensation, as he rocked on the dick inside him, finding just the right rhythm.  His own dick was sliding through the slickness of his lubed fist, as he took himself to the brink. 

"Bruce... shit, Bruce."  Hissed through clenched teeth as he let go, shooting spurts over anything that dared to be in the way.  He could feel the muscles of Bruce's thighs tighten, and the strong hips lock in an upright position, and immediately rubbed a taut, sweaty flank in warning. 

"Not yet Bruce.  Not yet."  He opened his eyes, and slowly eased off of the still-hard organ, smiling when he saw the creamy splatters on Bruce's face.  Reaching out with a hand that was similarly smeared, he rubbed a pattern around the strong nose, and sharp blue eyes.  A pattern that looked suspiciously like a mask. 

* * *

In two quick thrusts, Blair was all the way in.  Jim was still gripping the stairs, but now with his lover behind him, fucking him in long, smooth strokes.  Every other beat or so, Blair's leather covered thighs would stick to the damp sweatiness of Jim's skin -- just one more thing to rile his senses.  That and the ever roaming hands.  Relentlessly moving over his back, his chest, his neck, his balls -- everywhere but the jutting flesh that was desperate for attention. 

"Oh, man." 

The pace got faster, the thrusts harder, and Jim didn't dare not keep up.  Not even when he felt himself being pulled towards the abyss, despite his ignored hard-on. 

"Oh fuck, Jim." 

The older man reached for the dial that regulated his sense of touch, then mentally smacked that hand back, determined to ride out the frantic assault.  His throat hurt from the deep growls he was powerless to hold back. 

"Jim... don't come." 

Blair's voice sounded raw as well, his statement punctuated by each jerk of his hips. 

"Don't come. Don't come. Don't. Come.  Don't.  Come.  _Don't_. _Come_."  Until _he_ was coming with a soft roar, discharging deep inside Jim's ass.  He pulled out, sliding one hand along the slippery skin of his lover's back, while the other finally reached around to grasp the stiff shaft still waiting for release. 

"Good.  Very, very good." 

* * *

Dick relaxed on the couch, leaning against one of the overstuffed ends, his body cradled in leather.  One boot-clad foot was pressed into the seat, with his arm resting on his bent knee, and the other foot was braced on the floor.  Between his legs, Bruce was kneeling, facing the plump-cushioned back. 

A leather-covered finger ran down Bruce's spine leaving a mass of agitated, quivering muscles in its wake, and the sofa made a protesting sound as Bruce tightened his grip.  The straps had been removed from his cock and ass, and he ached with the knowledge of what was to come. 

"Almost there, Bruce." 

A gloved palm cupped the sacs between Bruce's legs, finding them so hard and full, they seemed to have merged into one ripe ball.  Dick moved his hand to the mound of one asscheek, palming that as well, his fingers dipping into the deep crack, and then, pulling slightly, he slowly parted the meaty flesh, exposing the puckered opening.  He raised his other hand, already glistening with lube, and slid three fingers home. 

Bruce was very still, absorbing the pleasure, and frozen with anticipation.  Wanting to move, needing to move... afraid to move.  He could feel the rhythmic squeezing of Dick's hand on one side of his ass, and he clenched his inner muscles in response. 

"Show me how you want to be done." 

Finally free to act, Bruce fucked himself on those three fingers, arching, rocking, tilting, so that he could feel the burst of pleasure inside on each backward thrust.  Pressure built as his dick slammed into the soft back of the couch, and his lover's other hand kept clutching his ass, or rubbing his thigh, or teasing that sweet, sensitive spot behind his balls. 

"Any time now, Bruce." 

Any time now.  Any minute now.  Any second now.  It was going to end with an explosive bang.  Especially now that Dick was twisting those fingers, pulling back and pushing forward in perfect counter-movements, meeting him so seamlessly, Bruce kept waiting for his lover's whole hand to just slip inside. 

"Bruce... next time, Nightwing wants the Bat to come out to play." 

"Yessss..."  Bruce sprayed out the first real word he'd uttered the whole night, and came -- hard -- semen spilling down the soft leather in front of him to dribble onto his lover's left boot. 

* * *

"Looking good, Jim." 

Jim's dick was in Blair's palm, and he was fondling the Sentinel's balls, and Jim did indeed look damned good.  Standing tall, hands clasped behind his back, trembling with desire, and the effort to contain it. 

It wouldn't be much longer now; Blair had that situation well in hand.  He worked Jim's erection, jacking him in a strong grip, teasing the head as it kept up a steady drool.  He sank a finger inside the still-slick hole between his lover's cheeks, not really to give Jim any added stimulation, but just to feel the familiar tightness once more.  But, it didn't mean that he _couldn't_ turn up the heat by applying pressure to the gland hidden inside. 

Suddenly, he released his grip, leaving Jim's hard-on angrily suspended... 

"Now, Jim.  Right now." 

The erect flesh jerked once, slit gaping slightly, and immediately began issuing forth its load.  Blair reached out again, holding on until it was over, leaving creamy drips that spilled down his right leg, and slid past the buckles on his boot. 

* * *

Separated by thousands of miles, and connected in ways they didn't even know, two men simultaneously followed sticky trails with their tongues, licking along smooth, black leather, until each was lapping up stray drops of come from the toe of his lover's boot... 

...while two younger men lovingly looked on. 

* * *

End Sidekicks.

 


End file.
